Narrator: Imagine two bridges spanning a deep canyon. One is a modern, stable concrete structure, just ten feet above the water. The other is a narrow, shaky suspension bridge, swaying 250 feet in the air. In a famous 1974 experiment, a female researcher approached men crossing one of these two bridges and, after a brief survey, gave them her phone number. The results were startling. The men who crossed the terrifying, shaky bridge—the ones whose hearts were already pounding with adrenaline and fear—were overwhelmingly more likely to call her and ask for a date. They had mistaken their fear-induced arousal for intense romantic attraction.

This "Shaky Bridge Study" is the central metaphor in Ian Kerner’s book, He Comes Next: The Thinking Woman's Guide to Pleasuring a Man. Kerner argues that most couples conduct their sex lives on the safe, predictable, and ultimately boring "stable bridge." This book is not a simple manual of techniques; it is a psychological roadmap for understanding the complexities of male desire, anxiety, and pleasure. It provides the tools to move a relationship onto the shaky bridge, where excitement, novelty, and deep connection create a more profound and thrilling sexual experience.

Narrator: The foundation of Kerner's philosophy rests on the Shaky Bridge Study. The men on the shaky bridge didn't fall for the researcher because she was objectively more attractive there; they fell for her because their bodies were already in a state of high alert. Their racing hearts and sweaty palms, caused by the precarious bridge, were misattributed as signs of powerful attraction. This phenomenon, known as excitation transfer, reveals a fundamental truth about desire: context and excitement are powerful aphrodisiacs.

Kerner uses this as a metaphor for modern relationships. He posits that most couples, over time, retreat to the "stable bridge" of sexual routine. Sex becomes predictable, safe, and devoid of the high-stakes action that fuels passion. The book’s core mission is to guide women to become the "Woman on the Shaky Bridge." This isn't about physical appearance, but about understanding and applying sexual psychology. It’s about knowing which bridge to walk on, creating experiences filled with novelty, surprise, and a touch of safe risk that can reignite the brain's pathways for desire and romantic love.

Narrator: A central myth the book dismantles is that of the simple, always-ready male. Kerner argues that the cliché of men "thinking with their dicks" is profoundly untrue. To understand a man's penis, one must first get inside his mind. In his clinical practice, Kerner observes that men, much like women, are plagued by sexual anxieties and performance pressures. These feelings are often intensified by a hypersexualized culture and the unrealistic standards set by pornography.

This pressure leads to a phenomenon called "spectatoring," where a man becomes an anxious observer of his own performance, turning intimacy into what anthropologist Lionel Tiger called a "performance art." He is no longer present in the moment but is instead worried about the quality of his erection, his stamina, and his partner's reaction. This anxiety is a key reason why many men rush towards orgasm, seeking the relief of a finished performance rather than savoring the journey. The book argues that a woman’s role is not just to please, but to help liberate her partner from these pressures, guiding him away from goal-oriented sex and toward a more sensual, connected, and mutually pleasurable experience.

Narrator: Kerner illustrates a core aspect of male physicality with a simple story: a man waking in the middle of the night. As he navigates the dark room, one hand instinctively moves to cover and protect his genitals. This instinct, Kerner explains, extends beyond a momentary reflex. It translates into a habitual, often unconscious, state of tension in the male pelvis. This guardedness is both physical and emotional.

He describes this phenomenon as the "Dance of the Missing Middle," observing how men on a dance floor often appear stiff from the waist down, their movements disconnected from their core. This physical tension is a manifestation of the emotional "armor" men wear. Society socializes men to be in control, but this constant control can lead to a numbing of the anogenital region, preventing them from surrendering to sensation. The book’s approach to technique, therefore, begins with "opening up" the male pelvis, encouraging relaxation and exploration of the entire region—not just the penis—as a source of profound pleasure.

Narrator: The book presents fantasy as the "engine of desire and the lubricant of arousal." It is not a sign of deficiency or dissatisfaction with a partner, but a normal, healthy, and essential component of a vibrant sex life. Kerner shares the story of Ellen, a woman married for seven years who feels immense guilt because she fantasizes about other men during sex with her husband. She believes this is abnormal and starts avoiding sex.

Kerner explains that this guilt is rooted in outdated Freudian theories. In reality, fantasizing is incredibly common. He introduces the "White Bear Study," where participants told not to think of a white bear ended up thinking about it constantly. The same principle applies to "forbidden" fantasies; suppressing them only makes them more powerful. Fantasy, Kerner argues, is our "sexual fingerprint"—a unique map of our desires. Rather than being a threat, it can be a tool for understanding oneself and can be shared with a partner to create new, exciting, and deeply personal erotic experiences.

Narrator: One of the book's most significant contributions is its reframing of "foreplay." The very word implies that acts like kissing, touching, and oral sex are merely a prelude to the "main event" of intercourse. This hierarchical view creates a predictable and often boring sexual script. To break this, Kerner introduces the term "coreplay."

Coreplay treats all sexual activities as part of a fluid and dynamic menu of mutual pleasuring, with no single act being superior to another. He uses an analogy to drive the point home: men who rush through foreplay to get to intercourse are like children who wolf down a gourmet meal just to get to the dessert, missing the richness of the entire experience. By adopting a coreplay mindset, couples can break free from rigid scripts, reduce performance pressure, and become more attuned to what brings each other pleasure in the moment, making every encounter unique.

Narrator: Kerner highlights a crucial difference in how men and women often approach intimacy. While women may see emotional closeness as a prerequisite for sex, men often use the act of sex as their primary path to achieving that closeness. This can lead to profound misunderstandings. The book tells the story of a couple where the man consistently initiates "make-up sex" after a big argument. For him, it's an act of resolution and reconnection. For her, it feels transactional and hollow because the emotional conflict hasn't been resolved.

The solution, Kerner argues, is emotional presence. He states that "emotional presence is the currency of great sex." This involves simple but powerful techniques like the "embrace until connected," where partners hold each other until they both feel a sense of relaxation and connection. It also involves making eye contact during sex and maintaining what therapist John Gottman calls the "five-to-one ratio" of positive to negative interactions. This focus on the "head-heart" connection transforms sex from a physical act into a deeply bonding experience.

Narrator: Once the psychological and emotional foundations are laid, the book delves into technique. The goal is to move a man beyond a quick, localized, penis-centric orgasm to a more shatteringly intense, full-body "global orgasm." To illustrate the importance of personalized technique over generic moves, Kerner tells the story of Wanda, a woman whose fiancé, Bob, found their sex life boring. In a panic, Wanda bought lingerie and even practiced deep-throating techniques on a zucchini. Nothing worked.

The advice she received was simple: place her hand over Bob's while he masturbated to learn his unique "arousal arc"—his personal rhythm, pressure, and pacing. By attuning to his specific needs instead of applying generic "tricks," she transformed their sex life. The book outlines a four-part process of stimulation, emphasizing teasing, variety, and using methods like the "squeeze, please, at ease" technique to build and control sexual tension, forcing him to experience higher levels of pleasure before release.

Narrator: Ultimately, He Comes Next delivers a powerful central message: great sex is not about a checklist of techniques but about a commitment to continuous discovery. The most profound takeaway is that a fulfilling sexual relationship, like the universe itself, must be allowed to expand. Stagnation is the true "sexual kiss of death."

The book concludes with the story of Charlie, a man who, after nearly a decade of marriage, still has a "killer sex life" with his wife. When asked for his secret, he explains that it’s not about what they do, but about the fact that their relationship is never static. They are always exploring, sharing, and creating "sexy secrets" that are uniquely theirs. The book leaves readers with a final, challenging thought: to stop assuming a relationship is fixed and instead to embrace a lifetime of mutual exploration, constantly expanding the boundaries of who you are, what you want, and what you can experience together.